


Here's The Thing About Dean

by Smuternatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Feelings, First Kiss, First Love Confession, Friends to Lovers, Hell Trauma, M/M, all the feelings ever, dean is a lover and a fighter, idiots to lovers, mentions of dean torturing in hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 17:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smuternatural/pseuds/Smuternatural





	Here's The Thing About Dean

So, here's the thing.

Dean Winchester, to his core, is a hunter. He goes stir crazy if Sam doesn't come up with a case at least twice a week. Time off isn't something he thinks about when he's behind Baby's wheel, driving home covered in blood and guts. He's thinking about the next hunt. Itching for it. Practically praying for it if he actually did that kind of thing. He needs to hunt like he needs air. Hunting, killing, salt and burns. They fuel his heavy heart and soul. If he's out there killing the things that go bump in the night, he has a clear conscience. Taking the monsters down one by one, saving the world by hunting the bad things. It's a never ending cycle and Dean is very okay with that.

The problem? There's not always a case. Sometimes, for weeks, he's cooped up in the bunker practically wearing a hole in the floor from pacing. His skin crawls and Sammy gets so annoyed with his brother that he locks himself in his room. 

And that's when the nightmares come back. 

Hell. Fire. Chains gouged through his skin to keep him suspended over the flames beneath him. Blood dripping down to his elbows with a piece of someones liver in his hand. The smell of burning...well, everything. Black eyes and a broken heart.

He tries _so_ fucking hard to block out what he remembers of Hell, but that's something he just can't do. Can't cut it out with a knife or cover it in salt and incinerate it. His mind conjures up shit that would make a lesser man want to be locked up in a padded room for the rest of his life. He hopes the nightmares are just things he's made up. That he didn't actually use a razor blade to pop off each and every fingernail of a politician. That he didn't carve out a serial killers lung and feed it to him. And that's just the light stuff. The other stuff...he can't bring himself to admit. He just can't. He can barely live with himself as it is.

But sometimes, just sometimes, Dean is ok.

Sometimes he can push all the screaming and blood and gore aside. Sometimes he feels great. Hell, he feels like a normal guy.

When Sam gives him a too long and too healthy grocery list and he complains that he can't, in fact, cook a goddamn thing with kale and beets.

When it's laundry day and he pops in his earbuds, blasting AC/DC while secretly dancing around in his room.

When he takes Baby out for some exercise and parks her under the night sky. He'll stare at the stars for hours without a care in the world.

And then there's Cas.

Cas is his best friend. His go-to guy for help. Cas is the reason Dean is even topside. The reason Dean has a body to walk the Earth. The reason his soul wasn't left in the pit. Cas is literally the reason Dean is alive today.

And he loves him for that.

Every flashy smile is a "Thanks Cas". Every time they stare into each others eyes is a "I need you". Every hug is a "I missed you so fucking much." And every thing Dean does for Cas is a big fat "I love you".

Whether it's keeping the blood soaked trench coat in his trunk for months or adjusting the angels tie, it's an "I love you."

Those stupid words get stuck in his throat every time.

He hates that he's such a coward. He can run into a vamp den without thinking twice. He can lie to his brother without batting an eye.

But when it comes to Cas? It feels too...scary. Throw a rugaru or a ghoul in his face and he's totally in his element.

Ask him to confess his unyielding love for the angel? Fucking terrifying.

So he sits. And stews. And waits for a case. Because anything would be better than telling an angel of the fucking lord that you've been in love with him since you laid eyes on him.

So he waits. And drinks. And flips off his brother when he brings it up.

"I can't take this anymore. Your stress is literally making _my _hair fall out," Sam hisses.

"Whatever, bitch." Dean jiggles his leg anxiously under the table, watching Cas leaf through a book in the other room.

"Jerk." Sams eyes bounce between his brother and the angel for a moment before he stands up, the chair scraping loudly on the floor. "If you don't tell him, I'm going to."

Deans eyebrows shoot up as he whips his head around.

"I'll fucking _murder _you," he growls.

"Dean, you're my brother and I love you. But I can't take this anymore. I can't imagine what it's like for you, but for me, it's literal torture."

Dean flinched. _Bullshit. You don't know what torture is._

Dean stood and pulled his brother to the side by his shirtsleeve. "I swear to Chuck, Sam. _ONE. WORD._ I'll take you out back and Old Yeller your ass." He points a finger in his brothers face and glares.

"So what, Dean? We're just going to live like this forever? It's been quiet lately. Perfect time to talk to him." Sam shrugged his sleeve out of his brothers grip and frowned. "I just want you to be happy. I want the both of you to be happy. And this--" he wagged his finger between his brother and Cas, "isn't working. If anything, it's causing more stress and frankly, Dean, I can't take it. Tell him or---or I'm leaving."

Dean's eyes bulged. "Le--leaving? You're--," he scoffed and his hand over his mouth, "you're joking, right?"

Sam shook his head.

"So let me get this straight," he crossed his arms and huffed. "If I don't tell Cas that--that I---," Dean cleared his throat and whispered, "that I love him, you're _leaving_?"

"Yep."

"Fuck," Dean slumped.

"Dean, you know Castiel loves you," Sam rested his hand on his brothers shoulder. "Is it _really _that big of a deal? You know he isn't going to freak out or say no. He--"

"Dean, Sam."

The brothers heads whip around to see Castiel standing a few feet behind them.

"Is something...wrong? What are you two talking ab--"

"Dean needs to talk to you, Cas. I'm uh---I'm gonna go. To my room. Possibly to pack." Sam narrows his eyes at his brother.

"Is there a case? I can come with--"

"No. No case. Uh, I just might be going somewhere. Alone. For a while." Sam turned and walked off to his room without another word.

"That was...odd. Dean, is Sam alright?" The angel tilted his stupidly beautiful head and stared at Dean who was still staring daggers at the hallway that his brother fled down.

"He's fine, Cas. Just bein' an ass." He turned and faced the angel. "Uh, Cas, I wanna t-talk to you. About somethin' if that's ok."

"Of course, Dean. You know you can tell me anything." Cas started to sit at the war room table.

"Wait," Dean grabbed Cas by his shoulder. "Um, would it be okay if we--," Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts and hooked his finger over his shoulder, "could we do this in my room?"

Castiel tilted his head, eyebrows pulling together. "Of course." He held up his hand for Dean to lead the way.

Once they were in Deans room, Castiel stood in front of the bed and waited for Dean to close the door. He shut it and pressed his palms against the wood, concentrating on the grain under his fingertips.

"Dean, is everything alright? You seem upset."

Dean picked at the door for a moment before slowly turning around and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Not upset, Cas. I uh--," he rubbed the back of his neck nervously and sighed, "need to talk to you about somethin'. Somethin' kinda big. Life altering, actually."

"That sounds--worrisome. Dean, what is it," Cas pleaded while taking a step forward.

Dean pulled at the sleeve of his shirt while he stared at his boots. "I uh--ok, so here's the thing." He squeezed his eyes shut as his knees started to tremble.

"Dean, look at me please," Cas whispered.

"Can't, Cas," Dean whispered.

The angel took another step forward and held out his hand. "Please?"

Dean willed himself to look up into the angels eyes, which turned out to be a big mistake.

His feet carried him forward without his knowledge. His hands felt the angels coarse stubble prickling his fingertips. His heart thrumming in his chest. His throat burned with words threatening to slip out.

"Dean," Castiel whispered, the word breathing life into Dean's chest.

"Castiel," Dean visibly shook, "I--"

The angel's eyes sparkled and his lips quirked into a half smile.

"Stop it," Dean huffed, "I'm tryin' to tell you---," he ran his thumb across the angels cheek and felt him lean into to, "that I'm in love with you."

Castiels smile widened into a full on gummy grin. "Dean Winchester," he sighed, reaching out and cupping the hunters face. "I am thoroughly and wholly in love with you."

Deans chin trembled as he tried to hold back his tears. He jerkily nodded his head and sniffed. "Well, alright then. I guess that's tha--"

Castiel pulled his hunter close and leaned in, kissing him gently. His hands moved to the back of Deans neck and squeezed lightly.

They kissed for a few moments, between smiles and light laughter. Dean's arms snaked around the angels waist as he sighed, pulling away gently to rest his forehead against Cas' shoulder.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he whispered.

Castiel ran his fingers through Deans hair. "It's ok, Dean. I knew."


End file.
